Rebellion
by uoduck
Summary: The Battle of Pelennor Fields ends a lot quicker, due in no small part to the mûmakil.


AN: This was just unrepentant crack.

I do not own either Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter.

* * *

When the Riders of the Rohirrim first heard the sound of the dreaded mûmakil, they, every one of them, freaked out. They had signed up to kill orcs, trolls, whatever Sauron threw at them but not this. Not creatures that towered over them in every sense of the word. Not creatures that had some kind of rope or wire strung between their tusks to destroy them. And especially not creatures that had war paint on them, with platforms of Easterlings goading them on with whips and whooping calls.

The horses trembled underneath them; no doubt wanting to gallop off in the other direction.

"To me!"

All of them rode over to group around their king, watching as the orcs fled from them. And of course, the oliphaunts never even stepped on the orcs, seeming to know that the even weirder creatures were allies. The mûmakil roared, causing some of the horses to rear in fear.

"Reform the lines! Reform the lines!"

The Rohirrim did as their king said, guiding their faithful steeds back into line. Some surrounded Eomer, all ready to protect the nephew of their king as well.

"Sound the horn!"

"CHARGE!"

* * *

Harry stared, dumbfounded, at the charging horses. He was dimly aware of the cackling of the men on top of him; occasionally one of them would go to the open area of the platform and hit him with the pointy end of a spear. He had long ago gotten used to the cruel and abusive behavior of the Easterlings; so it just felt like a pinprick to him now.

When he had realized his animagus form was that of an oliphaunt, he had gone to meet others of his kin. He had finally found them and had gotten caught up in a raid by the Easterlings. Harry wouldn't have stayed around willingly for the torture but Sauron had apparently seen him for what he really was. The Dark Lord had put some of his dark magic to keeping him in this form and thus under control.

_They're charging us? What the hell? __Who the fuck is making the strategic decisions here? _

Harry opened one massive ear in the direction of the Easterlings then glanced at his kin next to him. Ramir had one eye on him and so did Sibor on the other side of him. Harry saw a few of the others subtly step on a few fleeing orcs, to the dismay of their masters.

_Is it time, old one? Shall we throw off the men?_

Harry glanced at the Rohirrim that were closing the distance between them then at his friends.

_It is. _

_ Do you have a suggestion for dealing with these men on the ground? We are rather big._

Harry grinned inwardly at his little brother. _Kisar, all of you, just stay still and hold your tusks up. I'll see if I can aid us in throwing the bastards off our backs._

Sibor glanced at him as they all stopped in their tracks, after slowing from a charge. Harry could hear the Easterlings all shout in confusion and start to whip the others. The Rohirrim looked just as confused but they still charged.

Harry raised his tusks and trunk, enough so that they wouldn't be a hindrance to the horses but not high enough that the Easterlings would be able to hurt his trunk. He looked inwardly to himself and let his magic loose, directing it above him and ripping the platform right off of him. He bellowed out, half in anger and half in victory. He directed his magic to the other platforms, seeing some of his kin use their trunks to sweep the platforms and men off their backs.

He was dimly aware of the Rohirrim finally reaching them, some of them staring up at the mûmakil in bewilderment. Harry could hear shouting in the men's common tongue then squealing of his kin. He roared but he couldn't move yet, he didn't want to stomp on the horses and kill them. Harry glanced downwards at the ground, right into the eyes of a man. He would have to find a way to talk to them, once this battle was over.

_Harry! I need help!_

Harry flicked his tail agitatedly and directed his magic outward, ripping the platforms off of his kin and hexing the Easterlings. Some he just pushed off the platform, to be killed by the Rohirrim down on the ground if they survived the fall. Finally, as each of his kin checked in with him, his excitement grew. It didn't take too long for each member of his family to be rid of their burdens but when they did, they each trumpeted in joy. Not daring to move their feet as they did.

By the time that they were free, Harry glanced down at the ground. The Rohirrim had all backed off, giving them space. He figured that they had gotten the idea that the oliphaunts weren't going to intentionally hurt them.

_I think we're free to move, everyone._

Harry was about to take a step forward when they all heard a screech. He closed his big eyes briefly then glared up at the sky. There were two, no, three Nazgul in the air, circling the Rohirrim like carrion did their prey.

Harry cautiously walked forward, feeling freer than ever but he could feel the dark aura of each of the Nazgul. He stared at one of them as his chosen target flew ever closer to him and just as it was making to turn around, he shot out with his trunk and wrapped it around the creature's neck. His kin did the same, walking forward and choosing one monster to bring down. His other kin were tracking down the remaining orcs and stomping on them with great prejudice.

Two of his kin were surrounding the Rohirrim, seeming to protect them. Harry chuckled inwardly at what the men were thinking. It was probably hilarious. But back to the matter at hand. He reeled the Nazgul in then directed all of his magic toward the creature. He was even able to repeat the spell for his patronus in his mind and Prongs appeared, loping over his tusk and over to the Nazgul, antlers down and pointed straight at the dark energy.

The Nazgul screeched again and Harry winced and threw all of his magic toward the creature, all light magic versus dark magic. The Nazgul squealed once more and exploded, the wraith vanishing into the abyss.

_Ah, old one. We have a problem._

_You think?_

_ No sarcasm please. Not right now._

_ Oh all right._ Harry turned to look at his kin then to where Nukos had called from. The elder oliphaunt had padded all the way to the port and was staring at what looked like...

_What... are those?_

_ Harry, what do they feel like to you?"_

Harry turned his big head to glance at where the others were; one of them was just now sitting down onto one of the flying monster's head, having brought it down. Harry directed Prongs to where one of the Rohirrim had become trapped and the wraith was advancing on another. Then he directed some of his magic to study the green misty... soldiers? There was also a man, an elf and a dwarf in front of them, all three of them bewildered.

_See if you can shift back and explain. I would much rather not have to deal with ghosts._

Harry glanced back at Nukos as he went to see how the others were doing. He stared at the three hunters and sighed, closing his eyelids and focusing inward. Sauron was distracted for some reason so this should be able to work. He pictured his human self and thought of the spell that would change him back and started to feel himself growing smaller.

He could feel the really confused stares of the ghosts, the man, the elf and the dwarf as he regained his human form. Finally, he stopped moving and gave a deep sigh of relief then instantly covered his body with his hands, conjuring a cloak to wrap around himself.

"So..." Harry started, his voice hoarse as he hadn't used it in a while. "You guys ever going to close your mouths?"

The three hunters continued to stare, their jaws dropped.

* * *

AN: I do plan on writing a more serious LOTR story soon. This just happened to pop into my brain and kept on annoying me.


End file.
